


If I Don't remember You Tomorrow

by DefenderoftheDogma



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Gen, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker are Brothers, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Poor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Rex is there, Slave Anakin, hurt anakin, hurt comfort, it would save everyone a lot of effort, maybe they should just hug each other, poor anakin skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 17:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16706869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefenderoftheDogma/pseuds/DefenderoftheDogma
Summary: When Obi-Wan is given a mind wiped Anakin as a slave, what strange oddities will occur? What zany adventures will transpire? Based off the fact that there's about a grand total of 2 fanfics where Ani is a slave as an adult without there being a romance. This one is awesome without a romance. So ha! Take that! Rated for ownership of a slave, no vile language or 'scenes'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Anakin and Padme aren't married, Anakin is fully, incorruptibly lightside, (at least to a reasonable degree, there is always the corruptible potential in everyone) and he never had a padawan. Enjoy!

It was supposed to be a routine mission. They had said it would be a routine mission. Obi-wan had instantly had a bad feeling. Now Anakin was captured off to Force knows where, and Obi-wan didn't know where or how to find him. The Jedi master silently berated himself on allowing Anakin to sacrifice himself for Obi-wan, pushing his former Master from the room into an escape shuttle, only to find himself trapped on board a Separatist battle cruiser, one that had wasted no time in going into hyperspace, leaving Obi-wan and the 501st behind, without Dooku, and without Anakin. But they would find him. They would find Anakin if they had to tear apart the galaxy to do it.

* * *

It had been three years since Anakin's capture. Anakin was still missing. The council had long since called off any formal attempts to find him, as no one had sensed him after he had been abducted. And Obi-wan couldn't feel their bond. Obi-wan knew what everyone thought it meant, but that didn't mean anything! He wouldn't believe Anakin was dead, couldn't. Perhaps there was a Force suppressor. If he was far away enough, Obi-wan wouldn't be able to sense him anyhow. But he would find Anakin no matter what it took. He hadn't given up yet, and he never would.

* * *

Two years later and even Obi-wan had nearly lost hope. There were no sightings, no news. That wasn't to say there weren't rumors: there were plenty of rumors. But they turned out to be nothing, and even they soon died out. Obi-wan became distant, and refused to take another padawan, pulling away from friends, unwilling to go through the loss of yet another person he called family. The 501st gained victories like a Hutt gained money, fighting twice as hard as any other clones, and though they truly were the best of the best, some did become reckless. Echo died destroying the generator for a Seppi factory, saving the lives of hundreds of civilians. Waxer died in a space battle, after saving the life of Master Windu and shooting down 5 Separatist shield generators. Boil died staying behind on a mission so that he could deactivate a giant bomb, saving everyone on the 501st, and countless civilians. But for most, life went on. War. It said it all. One day, though, Obi-wan and 501st were reunited, the gap where Anakin should have been only all the more painfully obvious. They were to go and break the slave trade in the recently made Republic planet of Fargul. Perhaps if they'd had a better sense of dramatic timing, they would've known their lives were about to be changed forever. 

* * *

Fargul was now Republic, and they were all worried about some of the problems that might arise. For one, the fact that by ancient Republic law, if you were bringing a planet into the Republic, you had to accept whatever gift they wished to give to seal the treaty. You could not turn down the gift, even if you hated it, or if you were a Jedi. No matter what. It was a very serious law, and wasn't changing anytime soon. It was a burdensome thing, but Obi-wan was left with no way to circumvent or resist it, except glower at pictures of the politicians that had thought that some things would never change. The negotiations were boring, and Obi-wan simply wanted them over with as soon as possible. This was about as close as you could get to a no risk mission; the only reason the clones were there at all was to ensure things wouldn't get ugly. Quickly, however, they reached the end.

"Master Jedi." The Senator with which Obi-wan was speaking, Lak-Soo purred. "We accept your conditions. Only let us present you with a gift to make known our good will." He made a gesture, and a Togruta in approximately in his early 20s approached. "Lak-ur, will you tell the slave masters to prepare one of the slaves as a gift to honorable Master Kenobi. Please, tell him to find our most obedient, hard working slave, we only want for him only the best." Obi-wan felt sick. He wondered if he might be able to spurn Republic law just once. They made small talk for a bit, then Lak-soo's reporter vibrated. "Master Kenobi, I have a report on the one the slave master has selected, I feel him to be a good match for you, he will not give you trouble, I can assure you of that."

Obi-wan cleared his throat. "Well… I… would hate to take a child from his mother, or a father from his family. Do not take me wrong; I do most appreciate the gesture, and I will accept a slave from you," Words he had never envisioned himself saying, words that left such a bitter taste on his tongue. "but I do not wish to tear apart families, if you understand, oh gracious Lak-soo."

"I do understand, many of us will not buy families apart, you are honorable indeed. But you need not worry. He is a man grown, and has no knowledge of any life but a slave's, he was mind wiped when we acquired him. Please though, Jedi, do not think that we would do such a dishonorable thing, he was in such a way when he was sold to us."

Obi-wan nodded. "Can he be trusted alone? I do not mean to say that you have put forward a slave who is not, I simply am obliged to ask. I will, after all, not be able to take him with me wherever I go, and I must know that he can stay in my quarters, or have access to my room without hurting himself or misusing the privilege."

"But of course. He is trustworthy, I can assure you of that. He also will not question orders, unless, of course they go against his basic training. Such as, say, obey everyone his Master says to obey unless they say to do a wrong, do not disobey your master, do not hurt your master, and so on. He will be a good match, I am sure."

Sickened, Obi-wan nodded. "I'll take him then." At least he wouldn't be splitting up anyone's family. And he would have to make sure whoever this man knew he was to be treated as an equal. Obi-wan turned to Lak-soo. "Is there a set place to meet him? Oh, and, ah, what is his name?"

"He will meet you at your ship, wearing the traditional slave clothes for a space journey. He will have with him his shock collar, and all the other things you may use upon him. And we do not know of his name. He did not remember it. We call him 86205. You can change it if you wish, but he will hold to his name. It is part of the label of a slave, to be called by a number, and he is faithful to tradition." Lak-soo stood, signaling the end to their meeting. "May light shine on your path and may streams of water run by your feet."

Obi-wan also stood. "And may the wild dog shy from your side, and the rancor tremble before your hand." Formalities completed, the two bowed to each other, and went their separate ways.


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-wan approached the docking bay, and saw to the side a man. He was indeed wearing a shock collar, and a bracelet was wound around his wrist. It looked like the kind that was used to keep a person's presence hidden from the Force. Obi-wan could not see these things, but he felt them through the use of said Force, though the man himself was absent from it. He seemed familiar somehow, and Obi-wan sped his pace. Might as well get this over with as soon as possible. The man turned, keeping his face turned to the ground, hair blocking his features from view, though simultaneously seeming strangely aware of his surroundings. He spoke, in a quiet, subdued voice, giving the age old line that a slave must give when he first meets his new owner. "I am here Master. What would you have me do?" And then the world exploded. Or at least it felt like it. Anakin. It was Anakin. Mind wiped, enslaved once more, waiting for the beating he so believed to be coming, as many masters did to teach their new slaves just "who was the boss".

Obi-wan felt as if the world had been destroyed and born anew. Anakin was alive. Yes, he wasn't at all the same, yes he was different in near impossible ways, but he was alive. Mind wipes could be erased, had to be. And finally, after years of fruitless searching, after years of despair and pain, Anakin was back, and everything would be O.K.. "Master, Are you alright?" Obi-wan jerked out of his thoughts, and looked to Anakin, who had flinched back, as if expecting to be beaten for daring to intercept his new master's thoughts, even in the first few seconds they were together! And he was probably expecting just that. Obi-wan didn't even want to imagine what the boy had been through.

"I-I'm fine. I just… oh Anakin! I- I can believe you're alive!" Anakin blinked.

"Yes, Master." He was obviously confused, probably having no idea who this "Anakin" was, but not daring to contradict his new master.

Obi-wan tried to regain his composure and took a deep breath. Grabbing Anakin in the tightest hug he could muster and sobbing that he would never let this happen again was probably a bad idea, so he just whispered to Anakin to hold on a second, and commed Rex to come out of the Resolute and that there was something he needed to see, and then Rex was coming down, and Obi-wan told him to just take care of things, and then he was heading into his room as fast as he could go without actually running, and he was in his room, and _ANAKIN WAS ALIVE_ , he was alive…

Obi-wan collapsed exhausted onto his bed, trying desperately to collect himself, to come to terms with what had just happened. He stayed like that for 2 hours, simply trying to center himself, to grasp that Anakin was alive, and trying to control the urge to run to him, and gather him up into his arms, as he had so many times before.

Finally he made his way from his room into the hallway, where Anakin was waiting by the door, along with Fiji and Rooi, two Humans who had come to help in the negotiations and give help with understanding the culture. Fiji, the cultural expert, turned to Obi-wan, force presence exasperated, and bewildered. The latter emotion was obvious in origin, as it was a common denominator with everyone on board at the moment. The former took some explaining. Fiji motioned for Anakin to move out of earshot, and, after a confirming nod from Obi-wan, they boy complied.

"Sir, I tried to get him to come in for a medical exam, and he refused, saying that he couldn't do that unless you told him to, and that he wasn't hurt anyway. Sir, I didn't want to force him to do anything, as you ordered, but he needs to be given at least a check-up, if nothing else." Rooi, Fiji's brother, the negotiator of the two, intersected.

"It is the culture here that slaves are not given medical attention unless if the Master allows it, and it's really only given when it's economically profitible. And the slave is supposed to protect his Master with his life. Apparently, Anakin really does obey their rules: it's obvious why they gave him to you."

Obi-wan nodded. "All right. Send Anakin in, I'll talk to him, and then he can go in for a check-up." Two resounding "Yes General"s were heard, and Obi-wan motioned for them to leave. Then he asked Anakin to come over. Anakin did, keeping his eyes on the ground. It was probably against the rules to look your master in the eye. "Come on in." Obi-wan said gently, and was surprised to see Anakin start.

"Master, I-I'm not sure if I'm allowed to go in." Anakin flinched upon saying the words, waiting for the strike, and breaking Obi-wan's heart.

"Anakin, it's fine. Now we need to talk." Obi-wan lead Anakin in, noting the boys near imperceptible trembling. Obi-wan sat on the bed, and waited for Anakin to do the same. Instead, the boy positioned himself a few feet from the bed, eyes, still quite annoyingly, on the ground. "You can sit." Obi-wan clarified. Anakin sat on the floor. This was going to take work. "On the bed." Anakin flinched back.

Trembling, Anakin complied. He was most likely unused to being given the luxury of such a thing, more likely accustomed to sleeping on the floor, and only coming near his master's bed if he was to be making it, changing the sheets, or some other such thing. This was likely a traumatizing experience, as simple as it seemed.

"Anakin." Obi-wan leaned forward intently. "Sit, please." Anakin did, still shaking. Obi-wan put a hand on Anakin's arm. "Look, you need to understand. To me, you may technically be my slave, but I don't care about that. To me, you're my equal. Friend. I know you don't feel like that, that you don't know what that's like, but that's what you are. Please understand. Please. I- you're not alone." Anakin looked as if he was going into shock.

"Yes, master." He was obviously saying because he had to. So much like in their master/padawan days, yet so different. Obi-wan ran his fingers through his hair. He had no idea what to do.

"Anakin, are you O.K. with having a checkup?"

"If you want me to, master." Anakin murmured, never seeming to raise his voice, while at the same time always loud enough to be heard. "And… I'm not Anakin. My number is 86205." Anakin now seemed terrified, as he had actually _corrected_ his master. Obi-wan tried to sound as reassuring as possible.

"I am not going to call you that. It makes you sound like a droid, and you are so much more than that. And you can correct me whenever you want. I will never beat you, no matter what you do." Anakin looked as if he didn't believe him. "Look, I don't mean that you could try and assassinate me in my sleep and I would be fine with that, I just mean I won't hurt you. I promise."

Anakin still looked dubious, but nodded his already lowered head in submission. "Yes, master." Ruefully Obi-wan noted how Anakin had called him that so many times before, back when they were master and padawan, and even after the boy had been knighted. How different it was now.

"You can look up you know. You might run into something. Then where would we be? You could rack up a terrible hospital bill."

"I'm sorry master."

Was Anakin seriously _apologizing_ for something he hadn't even done? Those stinking separatists had better hope Obi-wan never got anywhere close to them, because if he did… Obi-wan noted that Anakin's force presence was now seriously traumatized with fear. Why...? Oh. His anger must be showing. He was going to have to be more careful.

"Anakin. I'm not mad at you. And you can't apologize for something you haven't done." Oh, how he wanted to hold Anakin close and comfort him; the boy was so broken, so vulnerable: the only way of life he remembered being that of inferiority and humiliation. He would do all he could for Anakin now, and restore his memory later. But first, he needed to take a trip to the medical ward. "Anakin, do you feel up to going to the med bay? I know you don't like it there, but you probably need at least some attention." He's already said this, hadn't he? This was not his greatest moment.

"If you wish for me to go, then I will go, master."

"I do, but you can call me Obi-wan."

Anakin's perspective-

"I am sorry, Master, but I must use your title according to the 15th slave law of Kainor. And I must be referred to as 86205, in accordance with the 5 slave law of Krion. I am truly sorry, Master." 86205 seemed to remember that he had not used the word 'master' in his next to last sentence. This was a major breach of protocol in separatist slave life, and showed disrespect, and some signs of mutiny. He fell to his knees before Obi-wan, shaking. "I am sorry master! I did not mean to disrespect you master, please forgive me."

This is it, 68205 thought. He was being kind to me before, at least at first, now I've blown it. He's going to beat me now for sure. Oh, why do I have to be so stupid? 86205 was surprised to a hand cupping his chin, and that his master was actually _on his knees_ beside him. This was either very good, or very bad. He'd had masters that would 'get down to your level' right before giving you the beating of your life. And this was a Jedi with a lightsaber. And the Force. Which was, apparently, some kind of mystical all-powerful force that could rewrite your mind or cause you to explode. 86205 was now terrified.

But then the man was turning 86205's face up, which was O.K., because the only time you could look a free man in the eye was when your master either wished it, and made it obvious, or when it was necessary and circumstances dictated it. But you could look in these instances, which made it easier to learn what your master really looked like. In this case, 86205 could now see that his master was a man in about his 30s, with a trim beard and auburn hair. He couldn't quite place the color of his eyes, though he did like them. All this was analyzed in a second: you had to pick up things fast if you were a slave. The man was about to speak, and 86205 paid close attention. You did that when your master was talking.

"Anakin," would his master never use his name? He wasn't sure how many more times he could correct him. "I never want you to bow to me. Ever. _I am pleased_ that you didn't call me master. I know you didn't do it on purpose, but I am pleased with that none the same. And I know how you feel about the rules, but I will not punish you for breaking a dehumanizing rule, that should never have been created. Also if you put that word in _every_ sentence it is going to become annoying. I will not be annoyed at  _you_ , but I will be at the circumstances. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master." 86205 was shocked. His master seemed to be saying that he _wanted_ 86205 to refer to him by anything but master. Or maybe not. This could be a trick, a trap! He'd had masters in the past who had said to was alright to do something, and then you did it, but then they said you had broken the rules, and used that as an excuse to beat you. No, 86205 wouldn't be fooled this easily. Rules were the rules, and rules were meant to be followed. And he would follow them, and be the best slave possible to this, his final master he could ever have, as he had been told that selling slaves was not allowed where he was going. He would be with this man all the rest of his life, and he would serve him perfectly. He would make sure of that. His master studied him, then grasped his forearms and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on. We've stayed here long enough. We should go to the med bay now." Anakin followed wordlessly. A slave, after all, was not to speak unless spoken to, and a response was asked for. And 86205 was a slave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

86205 followed his master down a corridor, absorbing every detail along the way. The structure of the walls, the average number of clones in the hallway, how said clones avoided looking at him as though he had the plague. Probably, they didn't know how to deal with slaves. Or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his master acted like he knew him. Maybe these people did too. He wouldn't ask. Questions were not the place of a slave, unless it was mandatory to particularly the health of the master, though also any others, or if circumstances seemed to dictate its necessity. He continued to observe.

Then a familiar ringing pounded at his head. There. A clone had been working on a support beam that ran across the ceiling, and the toolbox was going to fall on his master! 86205 tackled his master instantly, trying to cover every inch of the man's body with his own. He felt the tools slam into him, felt his flesh tear as objects rammed against it, again and again. Many of the tools were heavy or sharp, and all of them attacked like they'd held a grudge against him for years. 86205 waited until he was sure the danger had passed, then slid off of his master, trying to ensure that the tools still on top of him would not fall on to man. He heard the sound of running feet, but focused his attention on his master, and ran a practised gaze over him, checking for injuries. He found one. On the man's lower right leg. He must not have covered it. His master was also stunned, 86205 had tackled him hard, but he did not think it to be serious, probably only the shock of hitting his head. He would, though, likely be out for quite a while.

"Generals! Are you alright?" 86205 instantly filed away that he had said _generals_. Was that what he had been? A general? And a friend of his master's? A Jedi? Jedi, as far as he knew, were either the only or most of the generals in the war on the side of the Republic. It would also explain why he had been mind wiped, why he'd been in the clutches of a man named Dooku when he first awoke, not that anyone, even Dooku knew that, he had feigned sleep, scared and confused. He had later learned that Dooku was one of the main leaders of the Separatist army. This would require thought later, but now his first priority was his master. 86205 turned to the clone, and recited what he so far knew.

"He has an injury in his leg, sir, and seems to be stunned, I do not believe either injury to be serious, but he should probably be brought to the medical station just in case." 86205 tried to stand, but the clone grabbed his arm.

"You are in no condition to stand, your injuries are considerably worse than General Kenobi's, now stay down, and wait for a medic." 86205 stood down, it was all right, since he would heal faster if he rested, and so could serve his master better later. His master did not require his services at the moment. He decided to become acquainted with the clone: a knowledge of his shipmates could prove beneficial. There were no other clones in this area, since it had been undergoing construction; his master had only had something he'd wanted to show 86205. Now he could focus on the clone that had spoken to him. He inclined his head in greeting, and as a sign of submission.

"Hello. I am 86205. I am at your service." This was the typical greeting of a slave to a freeman who was not his master, and 86205 did follow protocol.

Rex

Rex blinked, then berated himself. This was more emotion than he usually allowed to show, particularly after General Skywalker disappeared. But he really hadn't been expecting that. He was used to numbers as names, of course: he was, after all, a clone, but he had never expected to hear that come from _General Skywalker_ of all people. It did make sense, though. He debated whether to tell General Skywalker his number, or his name. He decided on both. "My number is CT-7567, but my name is Rex." He waited to see what General Skywalker would do.

"Which do you prefer to be called, sir?"

All right then. "Rex." He decided not to give more. Sometimes shorter answers drew more response and were more efficient.

"I shall keep that in mind, sir, but I am not authorized to refer to you by your name."

He must be referring to the fact that slaves were sometimes not allowed to use names, only using titles like 'sir' and 'master'. In a flash of irony, Rex noted the similarities in that way between slave and clone. "Then why did you ask?" Information was valuable. Knowing what prompted General Skywalker's questions would quite possibly be worth the while.

"If Rex is the name you go by, sir, then I assume that is what others shall refer to you by, and I do wish to know who is being addressed."

Rex nodded. logical. There was no more time for psychoanalysis though, as a few medics joined them, carrying stretchers and several medical supplies. They began to run a quick scan over the two generals, then started loading General Kenobi onto a stretcher, while preparing one for General Skywalker. Said General shook his head obstinately, insisting that there was no need to 'waste medical supplies and time on him.' Rex noted that while the refusal of medical assistance was the same, the motivations were drastically different. When he had first been acquainted with the General, it had been stubbornness and concern for others. It had also been then that he simply didn't enjoy being incapacitated. Now the motivations were more of professional concern for his master, though Rex couldn't yet say if it was more than purely professional. It was also now out of self-degradation. Out of feeling he really wasn't worth it. This would require thought. For now, though, it was time to get General Skywalker to the med bay.

"Sir. You are not wasting our supplies, they were created for just this situation." If he stopped here there would be a speech about how he was a slave and so the supplies were not for him, so Rex didn't stop. "Also, if you heal you can better help General Kenobi, and if you refuse treatment General Kenobi will worry about you." Now Rex stopped. He had said all that needed to be said, after all. And it was enough. General Skywalker accepted the treatment, and Rex returned to going to the medical supplies stock. He would be of no use with the two generals after all. And he was already late filling in for Dandy in the restocking of medkits in corridor 10. The captain continued on his way: he had a job to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin

He had failed. He had failed his master. It was his job, among other things, to ensure his master's safety. And his master had gotten hurt. Oh, he was so stupid! Things had been going well, he had even slipped up, and broken protocol, and yet had _not_ been beaten, and now he had gone and actually _gotten his master hurt_. This was bad. This would earn him a beating for sure. You didn't just forgive someone for hurting you like that. It didn't matter that he hadn't been the one to leave the toolbox in such a precarious position, only that he had allowed his master to be injured because of it. This was one of the downsides to being permanently assigned to a master, they couldn't just send you off if you displeased them. So you could either beat them half to death, or all to death. Neither of which was a particularly desirable outcome, but had to admit, he did deserve it. He would take whatever punishment came, and he would not complain, no matter what. It was hard to believe that he had already managed to mess up so many times. Him! He had always been a good slave, or at least he had always tried to be, and he'd believed he was good at it.

There was just something unsettling about this place. In the way he was being treated, most of all. It was disturbing, to say the least. And he had allowed it to get to his head. Pathetic. He was better than that. And now they were giving him medical attention. Honestly, he had been more interested in his master's health than in getting 'checked out' as they put it. As it turned out, his master _had_ hit his head, and on a recently fractured spot, ensuring that his stay in the medical ward would be over night. 86205 berated himself on allowing this to happen. He was in for it for sure. Then a medic came up and informed him that he was to be put into a bacta tank.

Obi-wan

Obi-wan awoke in the medbay with an unpleasant ache in his head, a burning pain in his leg, and a medic by his side. He was informed of what had happened, and grimaced at the swell of guilt that took physical form as the nausea climbing his throat. He should've been paying attention. Yes, he'd had a head injury recently, and yes he'd been distracted (Anakin was  _alive_ ), but he shouldn't have let that make him so... _unaware_ of his surroundings. After inquiring after Anakin's health, asked for Captain Rex to meet him in the room where Anakin was being healed. The boy had been in the tank overnight, though the medics assured them that Anakin would make a full recovery. Soon after, captain and general were standing side by side, staring at Anakin's prone form. Obi-wan first broke the silence. "I - I hoped, dreamed that he'd come back, that we'd be together again, against all the odds. I never thought it would be like this. Rex, he won't look up, he only refers to me as 'master', and he won't go by anything but that number!" Obi-wan spat out 'number' as if it were a curse, as if it were something to be shielded from temple younglings, as if it were _venomous_. "Rex, I know that some clones only go by their numbers at first. How do you convince them to take names?"

Rex pursed his lips. "You can't really rush it, sir. You just have to wait. And it's easier with us, because there isn't really a rule that says that you have to go by a number, at least casually. With him… I don't know. It's been pounded into his head that he's _just_ a number, and that kind of thing isn't removed easily. I suggest calling him by the number, at least until he warms up to his name or gets his memory back." 

Obi-wan stared at the form of the boy who had been his padawan, his brave strong padawan… Now so broken. Not for long, though. They didn't have the proper equipment onboard the Resolute, but there was a medical station nearby that had things that hopefully could restore Anakin's memory. Once they got there they would also be beyond the Farwan nebula, something that did a wonderful job of blocking all communications from either side of it. Aside from that, it was harmless, however, they would have to wait to pass it before Obi-wan could contact the Jedi council. But they would be passing the place soon, and Obi-wan had a report to put together.


	5. Chapter 5

"Masters," he began. Oh, how to put this? "Fargul was easy enough to persuade, they were most cooperative and anxious to convince us of their goodwill. This attempt, unfortunately, included the giving of a peace slave." Sympathetic murmurs came from the holograms depicting the council. Obi-wan had been assigned to this particular mission for more than his famed negotiating skills. They had known that there was a risk of slave gifts, and as the slave trading was illegal under to Republic law, they had to send a master they knew would be able to be responsible with and hopefully help a slave. They needed someone who would not, no matter what, mistreat their slave or hurt them in any way, knowing what that would do to their psyche. There had also been whispers among certain members that perhaps Obi-wan could be helped as well: he wouldn't take a Padawan, but perhaps having someone he was responsible for could help him heal from Skywalker. 

"The slave is, however…" Oh just say it and get it over with, Kenobi! Obi-wan berated himself. It was just that, he felt that if he said the words, then it might make them untrue, lay a jinx on the situation, and that he would be alone again, begging everyone and no one for the half his soul that had been so viciously ripped away. "Anakin." There. He'd said it. And now the council was now staring at him as if he'd lost his mind entirely.

"General Skywalker is… alive?" Adi questioned.

"Alive, mind wiped, and enslaved. We are heading towards a med station they used in the battle of Fargul. Hopefully they can fix him." Adi nodded numbly. The rest of the council followed suit. The rest of the meeting was focused on Anakin, how he could recover best, how the council would contact the medstation in advance so Anakin could immediately begin treatment. The meeting ended, and Obi-wan went to check up on Anakin. He was pleased to find his boy sitting up and looking almost completely healed. Bacta worked wonders.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better." Obi-wan announced. Anakin's head jerked up, and Obi-wan crossed the room. Anakin threw himself to his knees in front of Obi-wan in an instant.

"Oh, master forgive me. I'm sorry master, I'm so sorry, you were hurt because of me, I won't fight back, I promise, I promise master, do whatever you want to me, I deserve it, I'm sorry." Obi-wan gave a start, but he was getting used to this by now. Then Anakin tore his heart to pieces by offering his hand, in the palm was an electro whip. It must have been inside the bag of things he'd had with him when he first came, and he was offering himself now to Obi-wan. He was convinced of his guilt, and ready for Obi-wan to tear into his flesh, beat him until he couldn't so much as stand, humiliate and torture him, all for a bump on the head and a bruise on his leg, when, had Anakin not been there, it could have been so much worse. Anakin shook with apprehension, prepared to be beaten within an inch of his life, only so that he could heal and be beaten again. Obi-wan did the only thing he could think to do. He fell beside Anakin, and wrapped the boy's shivering frame into a hug.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Anakin's perspective-

This was it. He held out the whip, awaiting the beating that was sure to come. His master seemed to hesitate, then moved forward. 86205's entire body tensed. He was prepared for anything… except the hug he suddenly found himself engulfed in. His master was holding 86205's body close, rocking him gently, pressing his face into his very confused slaves hair. 86205 had no idea what to do. But his master simply held him close. "Oh, Anakin," he whispered "please, I would never beat you, I promise." 86205's master continued to hold him gently. "Don't think that of me. Please." Begging. His master was begging him for something. That was wrong. He was supposed to be beating him, screaming that if he did anything like that next time he would get worse. This wasn't right. Perhaps the blow to the head had actually hurt his master more than originally thought. That was it. And as his master was hurt, it was 86205's job to ensure that he was healed. The beating could come later. 86205 squirmed, and his master released his grip so that the boy in his arms could move. 86205 found himself actually missing the touch. But he turned to face his master, actually meeting the man's eyes to check for pupil dilation. Finding nothing amiss there, he lowered his gaze, as was proper and expected of him.

"Master," he whispered quietly. "I think you may have hit your head. You may want to get checked out again, perhaps something was missed." A gentle hand brushed a loose strand of hair from 86205's eyes, and a soft voice spoke.

"And why do you think that?" 86205 forced himself to speak. If his master was in danger, then he _would not_ allow his own fear of beatings get in the path of recovery.

"Master, I failed you. You were hurt and spent hours in the infirmary, master. I deserve to be beaten, master. Master, I know I deserve this, I won't resist, I promise. But master, I think you may be hurt, so you can beat me later." 86205 kept his gaze on the ground. He really didn't know what to expect from this strange new master. What was to happen? Then a gentle hand ran over his cheek, and, once more, turned his face upwards. To his complete surprise, there were tears glistening in his master's eyes. What he had done? Was it something he'd said?

"Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that you deserve to be beaten?" Did he believe it? Of course. He had allowed his master to be hurt. He deserved to suffer for that.

"Yes master." His master was a Jedi, after all. He must need to warm up to the idea of physical punishment in such a way.

"Well in that case," 86205 tensed. "you're wrong. I can't believe you would even think that!" Obi-wan _his master_ grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. 86205 admonished himself momentarily for allowing himself to even **think** of his master by a **name** of all things, it was right next to a revolt. Shamed he kept his gaze averted even more than usual. HIS MASTER kept taking. "You kept me from being seriously hurt, because of you I only hit my head and my leg is a little sore. And it was my fault anyway, I should have sensed that would happen, I was distracted and wasn't paying attention to my surroundings." His master was taking responsibility for something he did? No. No, that was wrong to. He didn't know how to deal with that. Rules, regulations and beatings, those he knew how to deal with. Not this strange man. But he would serve him anyway. He didn't have to understand. His master sighed.

"Look, we're taking you to a medical station. We're going to see if we can get your memory back, alright?" His memory? He didn't know what to say. Some regulation phrase would be good, he decided.

"Yes master." Safe. Inside though, he was an emotional storm. His memory. He had often wondered who he had been, and though he seemed to be finding out ever so much more now, he was scared. Scared of who he might be, of what he might become. Besides, with his memory, who knew how well he would be able to serve? If he would only be humiliated to be enslaved. He wasn't now, after all, all his remembered life, he had been told he was worthless. That the only point to his existence was to serve others, that he wasn't really a person, so just obey and don't ask questions. And he had done that. Now… Suddenly he felt like smacking himself upside the head. Here he was, acting like he had a choice in matters, like his opinion actually mattered. His master wanted him to have his memory, so he would regain his memory. Simple as that. It made things easier, not having a choice of his own. He felt his master start pulling him to his feet, and he stood. His master sighed, and looked away. 86205 waited.

"I - I need to tell you something." 86205 kept waiting. "I realize that you prefer to be called by your number, and that when I use your name it makes you uncomfortable. So… I'm going to try to call you be the number. But when you feel ready to go by Anakin, please tell me." 86205 stood shocked. Was his master actually doing something he obviously didn't want to simply because 86205 wished it? That couldn't be right. But it was. And then something occurred to him. Two things actually.

"Thank you, master. And master, regaining my memory, will that be expensive? Master, I'm not worth the money."

"Yes you _are_ An - 86205. You are worth more than you know. And I care about you. And even if you're scared of regaining your memory, I know it's the best thing for you, and I do want what's best for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes master." 86205's master sighed, but nodded. Then he began to turn.

"Ah, 86205, do you think you could give Rex a hand in moving some boxes from cargo hold A2 to A3? They're a bit understaffed at the moment." 86205 nodded. The question was not one that required an answer, after all. "Here's a SPS." his master informed him, holding out an Ship Positioning System. 86205 took it, and walked off. He was glad for something to do. Work seemed like a good idea at the moment, it was normal, something that would relax him, and he was glad that his master did not seem to think him so in need of protection that he would keep him from doing any work whatsoever. He was pulling his weight, but seemed to be assigned something that was normal for any crewman. It was, in a strange way, comforting.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

86205 entered cargo hold A2, and saw immediately Captain Rex, along with 3 other clones. He entered, and addressed them all. "Hello. I am 86205. I am at your service." The clones turned to face him, and Rex spoke first. "86205. This is Shiner, Ricochet, and Rascel. Are you here to help with moving?"

86205 nodded. "Yes master."

Rex's perspective-

Well. General Skywalker was full of surprises. Rex hadn't been expecting that either. But he was nothing if not adaptable. Still though, good to understand this new version of his once General. "I thought General Kenobi was your master."

"Yes master. Though all are my masters, my true master is the one I primarily serve. When he is in the room, connected by hologram, or in some related circumstance, then I must refer to him as my master, and all else are 'sir' or 'mam' with alterations depending on the person. When my master is not present though, all are my master, so says the manual of Kelnal, chapter 5, verses 16 through 20." Rex nodded. It made sense. It also sounded like a clone reciting the manual. This was getting most enlightening. Rex also noticed that when his master was not in the room, General Skywalker was allowed to look up, if not make eye contact. He filed the information away for further inspection later, as it could be useful, and continued his work.

They completed the moving without further ado, and General Skywalker turned out to be a good worker, not that Rex had expected any less. After the moving had been completed, Rex checked his assignment board, and found that he was to disable cannons 5 through 8. The order had come from General Kenobi. Rex went to the weapons array check-in for clearance. He didn't understand the orders, but he didn't have to. He would obey anyway.

Anakin's perspective-

The work had indeed made him feel better. 86205 felt much better now, calmer. Now to find his master. He was on his way to the man's quarters, where his master had informed said he could come join him over the com. On the way there, he thought about his latest experience. Wasting time was pointless, after all. He had decided he liked the clones, particularly Captain Rex. The man obviously didn't know that much about slaves, especially not the kind from the strict brand the Separatists favored. But he did seem to respect the way 86205 did things, and he caught on quickly. He didn't judge, and 86205 was interested to see that there were undeniable differences between the life of a clone, and slavery, something he was sure Captain Rex was discovering.

He was slightly worried about the clone, though. He wasn't sure how his future would play out. If he died in battle, then, well, he would be dead. If he survived, and the Separatists won, then he would probably be killed then to. If he survived and the Republic won… now that was the question. What would happen to all the clones? 85205 hoped it didn't involve slavery. While the life of a slave was fine for him, it didn't mean he wanted it for others. But it was possible, he knew that much. For nearly all did not consider clones people, and that was always the first step to justifying slavery. And slavery was all too prominent a reality, he knew that better than anyone. He thought too deeply into things. He shouldn't. Slaves weren't supposed to think. And yet. And yet it was allowed here, he thinks. Then he is angry at himself. He cannot sacrifice the rules like that. Rules are there for a reason. They are to help. He cannot fight them. No matter what. He finishes the walk to his master's quarters, then stands outside the door, he is not to enter without permission. Besides,the door had a pressure sensitive mat around it; his master will know 86205 is here. And he does. The door opens.

"Hello A - 86205. We're nearing that medical station. Do you have anything you want to bring? We could be there a bit, but it is alright if you forget something, we can just have someone bring it." 86205, horrified at the prospect of someone else serving him, quietly walked over to the corner where he had put his bag of things. After retrieving it, he walked over to the door and made to stand outside. He was interrupted by his master's voice. "Where are you going?" 86205 noted that his master seemed to speak softly to him most of the time, as though he was afraid of damaging his slaves feelings, or self esteem. 863205 filed the information away for further inspection later, as it could be useful, and turned around to face his master's direction, though obviously not looking up.

"I stand at the door to guard you, master." Said master walked over to 86205, and put a hand on his arm.

"I do not believe someone who is able to get to me through all of the clones, security systems, and the simply fact that I have the Force, would be stoppable by you." 86205's master seemed amused. "You will be more helpful to me by lying down, or at least resting, so you can protect me even better against the things you can do something against. 86205 nodded, and sat cross legged across the room from his master. The man sighed and sat on his bed. "You can sit on the bed."

"Thank you master, but I can only do that if you wish me to."

"I wish you to if you wish to."

"..."

86205 wasn't sure how to respond to that. If he wanted to? That had never been an option before. What did he want? He decided to sleep on the floor, yet he could feel his master's disappointment that he had not yet learned to treat himself as an equal hanging over his head. Yet he could not do such a thing, his master would understand later. He awoke when a voice sounded through the speakers, informing them that they had 'reached their destination' and it was time to go. 86205 followed his master out the door, and walked toward what could answer so many questions about his life before.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

86205 walked through the long white hallways still behind his master, who was practically radiating excitement. They entered a room with a bed, surgical equipment, and all sorts of things 86205 didn't understand in the slightest. His master gestured for him to sit on the bed, and then he picked up something from a nearby table. 86205 studied it curiously, and his master glanced up, fiddling with it. "This is to remove that bracelet." He informed him. "I know you have tools with you, but they aren't particularly good, and it is a little dangerous to do if you aren't an expert. I don't think anyone would let you acquire such an extensive knowledge, and I know don't know enough about that sort of thing to use your tools. These are easier to use and safer for all involved. Is that alright with you?" 86205 nodded. His master started to undo the bracelet, and nervousness started creeping in. What would it be like not to have it? He couldn't remember a time when it wasn't there. And then, suddenly, he could. Because it was gone. He gasped in surprise, and stared at his freed wrist. Gone. It was gone. For the first time imaginable, it was gone.

Then a nurse came in, and informed them that the operation was to be held in a different room, as the equipment had been incorrectly transferred by mistake. 86205 noticed the long look the woman gave him, but ignored it. Sort of. He didn't ignore anything, only chose what to focus on, and he'd already deemed this woman to not be an imminent threat. This did not mean he wouldn't observe her, but she wasn't top priority.

But now he was once again following his master through the halls, when a loose bit of flooring slipped under his foot. He fell to the ground, hands out to catch himself, but someone caught him before he could hit the ground. He looked up to see his master's anxious eyes boring into his. Their gazes held for a second before 86205 recoiled in horror. He couldn't believe that he had just _looked his master in the eye_ though, for some reason, the withdrawal was more habitary than out of fear, and a part of him whispered that there was no need to fear, that this man was good, and no beating would come. And it was correct. His master only gripped his arms gently, and inquired in a soft voice if 86205 was all right. And though he gave the all typical 'yes master' it meant so much more. It meant the beginning of a belief that it really was alright, that he was safe now. And for the first time he could remember, he relaxed, knowing, that it would be alright. That Obi-wan would keep him safe, no matter what.

The two entered the newly designated room, and 86205 took his place underneath the brain scanner. The machine hummed, and began to do it's work, evaluating whether 86205 could undergo the surgery safely or not. Finally it came to it's conclusion, and gave a beep, signifying its completion. The doctor and Obi-wan came in, the doctor took the ejected flimsi-sheet from the machine, and the two left once more, as a nurse came in and gave 86205 his original set of clothes back, as he'd had to use a special suit to protect him from the radiation. He wondered what would happen next.

* * *

He couldn't have predicted what the results would be. His master came in, but he seemed… crushed? 86205 was scared. What could be wrong? "A - 86205," his master whispered, voice breaking. "the - the Separatists, the one's who mind wiped you, they did it very… thoroughly. If we tried to reverse it, you could die. I'm so sorry." And he was, tears were actually slipping from his eyes, silent tears, and he turned away, shoulders shaking, because he had just got him back after years of loneliness, of thinking that Anakin was dead, and now he really was, because he could never be the same again, never, and it was all his fault. He quickly turned and strode out of the room, 86205's confused stare following him. Why would someone care so deeply for him? Why would someone cry over him? The thoughts raced through his mind as he sat, the mysteries of his master all-encompassing, conflicting with all he knew, making him yearn for what he had understood, and cling to the love he was beginning to think he had gained.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Obi-wan's perspective-

He had failed. He had failed Anakin; he had first allowed his brother to sacrifice himself for Obi-wan, then had lost him for five years, five years of slavery, probably under the worst master's that Dooku could find. Dooku also probably knew that Anakin had been found by now, but there was nothing to be done about that. He had failed Anakin in that way to, perhaps Dooku would come looking for him once again. Perhaps he would even kill Obi-wan. That was frightening. Not his own death, but what might happen to Anakin. The boy was just coming out of his shell, only just relearning how to love. Though he shouldn't have to be. He should be regaining his memory now, not being forced to remain this way for life. That wasn't right. It just wasn't right. He was trying to calm his sobs, trying not to burden Anakin with any more than he had to, but he just couldn't seem to stop. Not completely. Because Anakin was gone. His little brother was gone. His best friend was gone. He hadn't ever believed he was dead. For all those years he hadn't stopped hoping, because surely if Dooku planned to kill him, with his ego he would have done it pubically. And now, he had to admit defeat. Anakin was dead. But not completely. Who was to say Master Yoda couldn't restore his memory? He was the Chosen One, they wouldn't give up on him easily. Obi-wan sat up, and wiped away the tears. Now was not the time for crying. Now was a time for strength. A time to protect Anakin until he could be fully saved. Obi-wan was a man on a mission, and the last thing you wanted to be was in his way.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Anakin's perspective-

86205 was exhausted. It seemed so long ago that he had been told that he had a new master, one that would be for life. It had been a few weeks now, and he still hadn't figured this new master out. He was just so _complicated_...There had also taken longer than usual to get back into space, for it had taken more time than was the norm to get clearance to leave, and there had been a tech failure in the operations room, and there had been a lot of things that, due to their unique design had needed to be moved manually. 86205 and his master had both helped, though 86205's master had an easier job of it. This 'Force' thing he talked about seemed really helpful. 86205, however, was now worn out, and as it was time to go to bed anyway, was on his way to the quarters he shared with his master. Obi-wan had made it quite clear that 86205 would _sleep_ at night, unless he had guard duty for some reason, though now would be a bad night for that. 86205 entered his master's quarters, and, as Obi-wan had gotten there before him, saw his master in bed. The man was still awake though, and 86205 quickly changed into his sleep clothes and walked over to the corner he'd always slept in. He shivered under the covers. O - his master's voice cut the silence.

"Anakin, you know there's a reason I got another bed up here." 86205 blinked. For one, his master hadn't used his number, he had used his name. And he didn't really mind. He saw the bed on the side of the room opposite his master's, he had seen it coming in, but hadn't grasped its meaning. He opened his mouth to protest, but Obi-wan cut him off.

"I got it for you. It would be a shame to waste it." Anakin had to admit this was a good point. A small, barely noticeable smile graced his lips. He walked over to the bed and settled in. It felt so good.

"Yes master."

* * *

Anakin's perspective-

Something was different. Somehow 86205 could tell what Obi-wan was feeling. It wasn't very pronounced, but it was there. He could also get a sort of feeling for where Obi-wan was. He figured that would come in handy sometime, if his master was in danger, it would help to be able to know it, and know where Obi-wan was, that way he could help him better. He wondered if he should ask Obi-wan what this new thing was. He stared at the back of the man's boots, his head was still lowered, after all, procedure had to be followed, no matter how inconvenient. Obi-wan though, somehow seemed to once again know what he was thinking.

"Question, 86205?" 86205 considered this for a moment. He and Obi-wan were alone, they were in their quarters, all Obi-wan was doing was going over some maps. He wasn't sure though. He was unused still to simply being able to ask anything. He wasn't sure… "86205. You know you can ask me anything. What is it?" 86205 took a deep breath. Yes he trusted Obi-wan, but he'd always been hit for questioning anything before.

"I don't understand master." Obi-wan turned to face him. "Master, I can… feel you. I know where you are, master, and how you feel." Master… I don't understand." And though he knew Obi-wan would never hurt him, that his master was good, he still slightly recoiled, burdened with far too many memories of acknowledging weakness, only to be beaten in an attempt to 'drive the weakness away'. Obi-wan though, only smiled kindly, and walked over to where 86205 stood.

"What you are experiencing is called a bond. It allows us to communicate with each other, actually share thoughts if it is advanced enough. It happens between two Force users, though rarely with Sith." 86205 nodded.

"Yes master." He didn't really understand, but you only asked a question once, and then stuck with the answer you got. That was the way of things. 86205's master shook his head.

"86205, if I don't answer your question then you can keep asking questions until you understand. What is it?"

"I'm not a Force user, master."

"You used to be." Then a clone came in and said that his master was needed on the bridge, and 86205 followed, an emotional turmoil raging inside. Something he had said had caused Obi-wan pain. He was no longer worried about receiving a beating for this transgression, but this was different than before. Before, he had tried very hard not to make his masters sad or angry, but he hadn't really done that out of some particular care about their emotions. He did it because it was against the rules, and if he did it a beating was almost sure to follow. Now it was different. Obi-wan was his friend. And he had hurt him. Something he had said had cut his master deeply, and 86205 felt worse than he ever had before. Subdued, he followed his master away. The man would deny feelings of hurt, he knew that. He would also deny that it was 86205's fault. 86205 knew that to. He didn't know what to do. Everyone here treated him as though he had come back from the dead. More than he knew was going on here. If being raised as a slave had taught him anything, it was that everything you didn't know was one more thing that could hurt your master. 86205 resolved to find out what was going on, and to find it out now. What if it was something that endangered his master? He could not allow that to happen. This mystery would be unraveled, if it was the last thing he did.

"Master?" His master turned. His master. That was all he was now. His master. He could not think of the two of them as friends, he was going behind the man's back, after all. No. He was assisting his master. That was all. "May I go to the computer lab master? I would like to have a better grasp on the war, as, master, the only experience with it that I have had is what the Separatists said." His master would not refuse him, he knew that much. He only hoped that a clone wasn't sent with him. That would make the real research he wanted to do all the more difficult. His master blinked, still partially distracted by his work.

"Of course. I suppose that would be helpful. Ah, go ahead." 86205 nodded, and turned away. He had memorized the basic layout of the ship, so navigation would not be a problem. And if he didn't leave fast, then his master might send a clone with him. He had to ensure though, that he didn't go fast enough to be suspicious. He knew that probably the only reason his master hadn't caught him was that he'd been so surprised that 86205 had actually made a request. Actually, 86205 was surprised too. Normally it would have taken much more courage to do such a thing. But he cared about Obi-wan _his master_ and would do anything to ensure his safety. This caring thing was kind of new to him, and he didn't know how to handle it all, but he supposed that lying was O.K. if it was for a good cause.

86205 made his way to the computer room, and sat down in a secluded corner. What was it O- _his master_ had called him when they first met? Anakin? And Captain Rex had called him a general. G-e-n-e-r-a-l A-n-a-k-i-n S-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r he typed, and gasped at the results General, Jedi knight, padawan to Jedi Master Kenobi. So often leader of the 501st. Prophesied Chosen One. Thought dead, after being captured 3 years prior, and the website he got this information from was 2 years old. Five years. He had been a Jedi, _someone_ in the years Before. That was how he referred to this time in his life. Before. He nearly choked, unable to believe what he was seeing. And then a thought occurred to him. He had been Obi-wan's padawan. This brought several things to light, one of which being that they had probably had a bond then, making having one again much more likely. The other thing was worse. They must have had been friends.

He'd thought Obi-wan was his friend because he was an incredible person. That he'd had some great moral standard. Now 86205 knew the truth. He was only taking care of his once apprentice. Yes, there was sympathy, 86205 had, after all been the man's padawan, now he was a slave. Even beyond that, his master was a Jedi. He was supposed to be compassionate, from what little 86205 knew of the Jedi, it wasn't much, though once he had been required to find information on the Jedi, as one of his masters had been paranoid about the Jedi coming to do something to him. 86205 had dutifully researched the Jedi, though he was only being rented out to the man for about a week. He had learned much, among which was that compassion was central to a Jedi's life. Of course his master felt sorry for him. But he was caring for 86205 because of their past relationship. Not for who he was now. That hurt. He had just been getting to finally trust, love even: now he knew that it wasn't him his master had been caring for. Simply a ghost that wore his skin. A memory. That was all.

86205 buried his head in his hands. Oh, why had he allowed himself to hope? All hope did was set you up and punch you down, crushing you until it's job was complete, and there was nothing left for you to feel. 86205 tried to hold back the tears. They came anyway. He should have known. No one befriended a slave. He had figured out a way to block off the bond, or at least send false information through it. It had come almost instantly, the ability to do this, naturally. He supposed that was one of the perks of a rebond. Easy blockage. He had been sending the feeling of being engrossed in work over the bond, simply recalling a memory and projecting the feelings it brought. The memory was starting to crack. He strengthened it detachedly. It was something he could do, detaching himself from reality. It came in handy sometimes, like in the middle of beatings. This was the worst beating he'd ever received. This knowledge. It was too much.

To think he was finally, finally, loved, only to learn that it was nothing. A joke. Some cruel joke played by the universe and his master for the sole purpose of hurting him, of tearing him to pieces. 86205 sobbed, wept for what he'd believed to have had and lost, wept for what was broken and could never be recovered. He made a promise to himself that day, shattered beyond belief, crushed beyond imagining. He vowed that never again would he love, never again would he give his heart so freely, for no other reason than that he needed to, than that he wanted to love, and to be loved in return, than that he wanted a break from the constant agony of life. He would be as he was before: the perfect slave. The submissive, quiet one, who never broke the rules, no matter what. And if his master wanted to be his friend, he would remind him that he was not in a position to befriend a freeman, much less his master, and eventually his master would stop trying. All it would take was time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

86205 moved through the hallways, a silent wraith. Aware of his surroundings, but never looking up. Aware of the fact that all eyes were straining to stay away from him, and for the first time knew why. Aware of the falsehood, the lies. Aware of so much more than ever before, yet wishing he did not. Wishing he still believed himself to be loved. He moved fluidly till he entered the bridge, then stumbled slightly upon seeing his master. He quickly corrected his gait, then positioned himself the proper space behind his master. He had managed to close the bond, he would try and destroy it later. For now though, he stood and listened, truly the perfect slave. Eventually his master left, and 86205 left beside him, effortlessly keeping pace, simply expending the energy needed to be efficient, no more. There was no need to waste energy, after all. His master seemed concerned for some reason. Perhaps it was his behaviour. He didn't want to upset his master, but this was the necessary course of action. He stood at attention when they reached his master's room, already having a plan of what to say when interrogated.

"86205, what's wrong?" The sympathy in that voice was overwhelming. He had been this mas's padawan. Now he was his slave. Humiliation began to rise. He squashed it, and fixed his gaze on the ground.

"Master, I was researching, and… I don't know." What he was about to say was sort of true. He had researched both sides of the war after discovering his identity, and so this would not be a complete lie. "I don't agree with many of the things the things the Republic does, master. And master, I don't know how I feel about the Jedi. Master, I don't… this bond… I don't know." It was killing him to speak this way to his master of all people, so _casually_ that it was almost painful. It was probably a breach of protocol, but he had to in order to fix things between them. And he knew that if he made his master revoke the bond, then that was a great step towards keeping things strictly professional between them. Friendship could not be between a master and his slave.

"The bond makes you uncomfortable?" His master had taken the bait. Oh, it sounded so horrible when he said it like that. He supposed he just would say it like that. He was… helping his unknowing master. That was all.

"Yes master, I mean… I don't know. Master I…" He allowed his voice to trail off. This was the most efficient way to help his master. He had to do it. "Sort of, master. Master, is there a way to undo it? I-I mean…" Yes, he thought. I'm just a scared confused slave, and I have no idea what to do or how to ask for it. He saw his master look away briefly.

"Well… an unwanted bond can cause damage to both sides, it's why masters and apprentices usually cut their bonds after the apprentice is knighted. It can be hard and painful when separated for long amounts of time. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. We can't have a bond, it would hurt the both of us." 86205 sighed inwardly. This was going to be easier than he had thought. But he did know why his master hadn't thought of it. He had been stressed beyond belief, had been overjoyed at his apprentices return from the dead, that he had forgotten that things could never be the same.

Oh, he knew that to some level, but 8620 had the feeling that his master was waiting for his young slave to be again the person he had been, to have that smile he'd seen in the pictures of himself, to laugh at jokes, to be his master's brother. It would never happen. Never could. Anakin Skywalker was dead. Dooku had killed him. It would only take time for his master to realize what 86205 already knew so well. He shifted on his feet, trying to project the image of someone wanting to say something but not knowing how; it was this way that his master would respond to best. And he did. "I… suppose we should cut the bond now before it gets to be even stronger." The man sounded devastated. But this was the best way. It had to be.

"Yes master." His master led him to the bed, and sat facing him, cross legged. 86205 copied. The two joined hands, and 86205 had to fight to keep himself from breaking at the shattered look on Obi-wan's face. No. Not Obi-wan. His master. He forced his mind into obedience, it was something he could do, and resolved that he would be the perfect slave, no matter what. Even if it broke his master's heart, he would do it, and his master would adjust in time. A strange sensation filled him, and he heard his master telling him to relax, to give in and let his master do the work.

He obeyed, and light seemed to fill every fiber of his being. He saw a sort of rope, something intricate and beautiful, yet so fragile. It was was amazing. And then he saw a form made entirely of light, and he knew it to be his master. The form made it's way to the beautiful rope, and somehow 86205 knew he should do the same. He did, and saw that the aura his master gave off was outlined with a deep pulsating blueish black, he didn't know what it was, only that it signified that his master was terribly sad. 86205's aura shifted to a guilty orangish, mixed with a determined dark green.

He moved towards the rope in synch with his master, and his hands, or where they might be if he had them, really they were only extensions of the light that was him, transformed. They sharpened, going from a misty cloudlike form, to something like blades, though they seemed insubstantial at the same time. He looked over at his master, then realized he had not done the same. His hands were glowing a deep, burning, bright red, and he seemed to be taking a more human form. 86205 focused, and with a strange, tingling, stretching sensation, he too transformed, hands glowing red,and though he was now becoming more and more detailed with every bit of energy he expanded, so that you could see the details of his face, he still glowed. He burned off a bright, immutable energy, light came pouring out from every inch of his body, radiant, bright as the sun itself, yet in this place he could be looked upon for years, yet never with the slightest pain.

His master was much the same, though not as bright, and the two progressed further towards the rope. His master lay his burning hands on the rope, and a single tear ran down his face. 86205 mimicked his master's motions, laying his hands on the opposite side of the rope, so that he was facing his master. He glanced up at the man, tears were streaking the man's face now. His hands started glowing even brighter, and 86205 followed the motion. The rope glowed even brighter under their combined heat. For that was what it was. They were burning the rope away. Breaking it. As they continued, it began to radiate light as if there was no tomorrow. And the light wasn't only from the rope. 86205 and his master seemed to have become spotlights of the Force, destroying any resemblance of dark that may have been in this strange realm. The light grew to a fever pitch, and then, an explosion. The rope snapped. Forever. This must be forever. It could not come back now, no matter what, 86205 made sure of that. No matter what, he would not allow this bond to continue. No matter what.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Obi-wan's perspective-

The two were catapulted into their own minds, and Obi-wan awoke with tears covering his face. Alone. He was alone. Never again would he feel Anakin's gentle presence caress his mind, sooth him after a battle, or calm him when everything else seemed ready to fall apart. Never again. So much lost.

Normally a bond wasn't broken like that, but the bond he'd had with Anakin was special. It had been truly unique, and it's breaking had left Obi-wan shattered and feeling more alone than he'd ever had in his life. He gasped for Anakin to leave, and the boy did, and Obi-wan collapsed onto his bed, sobbing. He had gotten Anakin back, after so long, so very long, and now their relationship was broken. He knew that Anakin's request had been more than about the bond. He'd wanted to end them both. Forever.

Anakin had been always there, been there so much that he'd began to take the boy for granted. Began to assume that Anakin would always be there. Oh, he'd been so wrong. How could he have believed that? Oh, how he wished that he could turn back the clock, could somehow stop Anakin from being captured. Oh Force, he had taken every precaution, done everything possible to ensure that it was him that was in the thickest of the danger, that if one of them was to die or be seriously hurt, that it would be him. Anakin wasn't supposed to have to go through this. It was supposed to be him.

Obi-wan allowed his tears to soak his pillow, feeling his heart break into a million pieces as reality came slamming home. Anakin wanted nothing to do with him. Perhaps he had, after all, they had bonded, but that must have been a decision without thinking. A spur of the moment thought, something he hadn't really considered. And there was something in the way Anakin had attacked the bond, ruthlessly slaughtering it, and Obi-wan had known then that Anakin truly was dead. Perhaps some of what he had been could be salvaged, yet Anakin was gone. Obi-wan knew this, and it broke his heart. It must have been something he had done. He had somehow said or done something wrong, and it had driven Anakin away.

He buried his head in his hands, and sobbed quietly. Would chasing after Anakin be a good idea, or would it only drive the boy away? He didn't know. His lack of forethought had already been detrimental to then both, leading to a bond that should never have existed. His over enthusiasm in accepting Anakin had only made the boy uncomfortable, his willingness to disregard the things that had been so deeply imprinted in Anakin's mind had brought momentary trust, but in the long run had only served to pull Anakin away. He had failed so badly, unknowing of how he could possibly redeem his lost once padawan. What should he do? How could he help Anakin now? He took a deep breath, and pulled himself together. The first part was obvious. He couldn't stop trying to help Anakin. That was a given. So the only option he really had was to try to help his brother come back to himself. It was really all he could do.

* * *

Anakin's perspective-

The bond was broken, and it left a strange hole in his heart. He ignored it. There was no reason for it to exist, it served only to hinder his relationship with his master. And as this was true, it had needed to be destroyed. Now to see what else may come up. He would find the things that were preventing him from having a correct conventional relationship with his master, and he would remove, nullify, or destroy them. It was really all he could do.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Obi-wan's perspective-

Obi-wan strode down the hallway, barely pausing for anything. Perhaps he had lost his bond with Anakin, perhaps the boy didn't want a friendship with him anymore, but he would not allow this to cost him Anakin altogether. And he was going to make sure Anakin knew that. Somehow.

"A-" No. Anakin was dead. This was 86205. The Separatists had killed Anakin, and though he may be able to bring out some of the boy he had known in this new man, he would never be Anakin. "86205" he finished. "Come over here."

The man did so, of course, for to do otherwise would be to, horror of horrors, actually question his master. Obi-wan felt the sarcasm pinch at him, and tightened his lips. The man before him awaited instructions patiently, as Obi-wan had a sinking feeling he always would. "Come on. We're going."

Curt words, to be sure, yet he didn't really care. The numbness from the broken bond had not yet faded, nor the pain. A strange feeling, the numbness and pain mixed. He led the way to his room, not even hearing the shadow following him. Whether this was for 86205's pure stealth, or Obi-wan's poor shot senses, the knight could not say. Everything was so surreal. It was of no consequence.

But the two were interrupted by Rex coming up to tell them that the council was requesting Obi-wan's presence. Obi-wan had no choice but to comply. So he did. The meeting proved to be most time-consuming, providing that once it had run it's course there was no time for talks. The clones had to go back to the barracks, while Obi-wan and 86205 were to appear before the council. The pair made their way through the temple, the multitude of shocked stares at seeing the thought dead Chosen One alive and well, if acting rather strange. Thankfully, Obi-wan was on the council, and so had the authority to tell them to buzz off, in so many words. Finally they reached the doors to the council room, and, after being granted clearance, entered. Every pair of eyes was fixed on 86205. Obi-wan remembered with a stab how so many times Anakin had been called before the council, usually on account of some droid, or a thoughtless prank. How different things were now. The council began interrogation. Mace led off.

Anyone's perspective-

"Skywalker? Master Kenobi says that you have been mind wiped and enslaved for the past 5 years, is that correct."

"Yes master, though my name is 86205." No longer did 86205 fear that a whipping would be given by his master, though he didn't know about this man, he looked like the type that would beat you half to death. Though he knew appearances weren't everything, he couldn't help but shrink back a bit, seemingly surprising the rest of the council with this action, he supposed, being a general he had not been one to back down in his previous life.

"Master Kenobi also mentioned that you preferred to be referred to a such… 86205." 86205 acknowledged this with a nod of his head. "Can you detail everything that you remember for us, starting from the very beginning?" 86205 began his tale. And he told everything, starting with waking up to Dooku, and ending with the council meeting itself, obviously omitting certain details, such as his discovery of his true identity.

Obi-wan listened intently, wincing at when 86205 related to being beaten, starved, tortured, or some other such thing. He had been through so much, and it was all Obi-wan's fault. Had any other master been with Anakin on that fateful day, the boy would assuredly be safe now, perhaps even with a padawan of his own. A reality that was now never to occur. Never could. Obi-wan bit back his anger at a retelling of a particularly cruel beating, fighting back the mental image of himself squeezing the life out of Dooku, with either the Force or his hands. Jedi do not seek revenge, Jedi do not seek revenge, Jedi do not seek revenge, Jedi do not seek revenge. The mantra repeated itself in his mind over and over. Maybe he could make a teensy tiny exception… He knew he wasn't seriously considering the possibility. He was, after all, a Jedi, seeking revenge in such a way would put him on the same level as Dooku himself.

Obi-wan gave a mental sigh. Oh well. It was nice to pretend. He focused again on 86205, and quickly averted his gaze. The pain of a shattered bond was still fresh, prominent in his mind, and he suspected it would always hurt, to some extent. His bond with Anakin had been special, precious to them both, and 86205 had just… Obi-wan clamped down on this to, he needed time to meditate and relax. Too much had happened in far too little time, he hadn't had time to recover. 86205 finished his story, and the council exchanged shocked glances. Well, not Obi-wan. He wasn't shocked. He knew what 86205 had said of course, he could listen, or at least catalog information, while thinking on something else, so he knew what his young slave had said. He just wasn't as surprised. He had, after all, already spent time with 86205, and had seen the conditions of the slaves who were bound by Separatist law, he knew what to expect. He could also remember vividly Anakin's tales of slavery, and as horrible as they had been, he knew that slavery under Separatist law was far worse. 86205 was dismissed to directly outside the room, so that the council could talk freely.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Master Kenobi" Yoda began. "Your opinion on young Skywalker, what is? Think you that lost to the Order is he?"

Obi-wan sighed, and pursed his lips. "I… do. The mindwipe is complete, he was scanned, and there is nothing that can be done to retrieve his memory, at least with our current technology. He has also broken the bond." Disbelieving gasps came from around the room. Adi broke the silence.

"Skywalker has… broken the bond? How is that even possible?"

"It reinstated itself after we had gained a sort of friendship. I fear that I was to outgoing, or friendly… I don't know. But he was uncomfortable with the closeness, and wanted to end the bond. And our friendship. It was my fault. I was to sudden, too forceful on him. I…"

"Blame yourself for this you cannot! The Separatists fault this is, on them lies the blame. NOT on you." Obi-wan looked away. The words were true, but that didn't mean he felt otherwise. "Now other problems we have. To do with young Skywalker, what shall we? Thoughts, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-wan was careful to avert his eyes. "I know that he wants me to simply treat him as my slave, to at least not be his friend. And… a part of me wants to let that happen. I know it is wrong, masters, and that I should not feel that way, I just…." Obi-wan let out a deep breath. "I don't know how to deal with this right now."

Obi-wan hung his head in shame. He should be able to handle this. It was just so much though. Anakin apparent return from the dead, only to be made Obi-wan's slave, the mindwipe, the breaking of the bond, to come so close to regaining Anakin, only losing him to 86205… IT was so much to take in, especially what with being a general, someone who had to be in perfect control every step of the way. But life had no respite. That was the way of things. And he was _on the council_ for Force sakes! He should be able to deal with this. Yoda had other ideas.

"Hmph. sorry we are, Obi-wan that go through this you must. Hard it must be. A respite you will be given, temporarily will Skywalker be but in the custody of another. Think we cannot that able you are to withstain such pressure. Meditate you will. Rest you will. Do this now you will. Sort out the details, the rest of us will. Go now." Obi-wan blinked. This was not quite what he had been expecting.

"Masters, it was not my intention to be given leave. I am fine…" Obi-wan never finished his sentence.

"Hear me did you? Rest you will! An order that is. Excused you are." Head still spinning, Obi-wan turned and left the room. He passed 86205 at the door, and nodded briefly to him, then clarified that he was to stay here, while Obi-wan left for a bit. That taken care of, Obi-wan made his way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was a place he liked to meditate, and he surely needed the calming powers of the Force now.

Obi-wan's perspective-

Obi-wan was deep in the Force, head still reeling. This was not a new sensation. The last time he had felt this way was when Qui-gon died. Qui-gon who he'd failed yet again. Qui-gon's last wish had been that Anakin be trained, and Obi-wan had managed to get the boy nice and knighted, then he'd managed to get the child mind wiped. And enslaved. Failure. No, he couldn't think like that! He was a Jedi. He was above that. He would not fall to depression or self-decrepitation. Obi-wan took a deep breath. No. He centered himself on the Force. He would help 86205 to go back to at least some resemblance of his former self. No matter what.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Obi-wan walked over to his quarters, where he had been told An - 86205 would be. Obi-wan glided inside, to see 86205 standing by the door, looking for all the world like the bodyguard to the Queen. "At ease" Obi-wan murmured quietly. "You don't have to do that, you know."

"Yes master." Again with the master. Obi-was found, though, that he didn't care about it so much now as he had before. It was more of an acceptant annoyance really. It was slightly annoying, but Obi-wan was sure that he wasn't being desensitized. After all, how could one accept such a dehumanizing ritual?

"You can call me Obi-wan." Why did the words sound so automatic now?

"Thank you master."

Obi-wan sighed, and walked into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

"I will eat if you wish it, master."

"I wish it if you do."

86205 allowed no expression to show on his face. But really, he was annoyed. Again with the choices? He could tell that his master was beginning to stop caring quite so much though. That was good. But what to answer? 86205 considered. He needed to eat, of course, if he was to protect his master with maximum efficiency, but the both of them eating at once was illogical. He would eat after his master. No need to make the man wait for his lost little once padawan. He gave his master his answer, and waited for the man to finish his food. Then 86205 walked forward. Then he stopped. What was he allowed to eat? On the Resolute, it had been easy to tell, everyone ate the same thing, mostly. But there were so many different things here. What would his master want him to do?

"Master? What do you wish me to have.?" He waited for a response about getting what he wanted, and was surprised when he actually got an answer.

"How about the Honey Wrinkles? Don't get the Pepperbackers or Rosenwarts. Uh, the Goah Bolts are also good." 86205 blinked. His master walked over to a chair and settled down with a data pad, seeming to be searching for some sort of regularity. 86205 turned back to the fridge. He reached for a jar labeled Honey Wrinkles. He took one of the squares from the tin. It was unlike anything he'd ever had before. Better than anything he'd ever had before. He supposed that O - his master would know what he liked. this did seem to be a desert though, something he'd only heard about but never tasted. Fascinating. He must have liked candy in the before. 86205 quickly finished up, then walked over to his master, to stand guard. The man looked up.

"You can sit down."

"Thank you master."

"How are you going to protect me if your legs are tired? Sit down. I'm safe in the temple." Though somewhat reluctantly, 86205 complied. On the ground. Again. Obi-wan gave an exasperated sigh. Oh well. Sooner or later they would get somewhere. "So. Do you like to read?"

86205's perspective-

"My personal preference is of no consequence, master. Do you wish for me to read, master?" Probably the answer was yes. Still, he should ask. And the fact that his sitting on the floor had not stimulated a lecture on how he was human to, and should use a chair, had been quite noted and filed away.

"Well, you might as well learn about the Republic, after all, you will be here for quite a while."

"Who shall protect you, master?"

"The hundreds of Jedi in the temple. Learn about the Republic. It'll do you good. And me, since you'll know more about your environment." A logical answer. 86205 nodded, and considered how to phrase his next question.

"Did you have something in particular in mind, master?"

"Yes, actually. This novel, written by a Samereosan. Neither Republic nor Separatist. It should give you a pretty unbiased view of things." 86205 excepted the datapad, and noted that the design was quite similar to what he was used to. They spent the rest of the evening that, way, slave and master, looking at calm contrast with reality, the universe turned inside out.

* * *

86205's master got up and stretched. It was approximately 10:00 PM. The lighting off the room had dimmed by 10 percent. Probably to simulate evening. "Time for bed. Your room is directly across from mine. Breakfast is at 8:00. Goodnight." 86205 nodded. His master would be safe without his presence in the man's room. The two went their separate ways. First one, then the other. The team. Broken.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Yeah! Please review! I spent a very long time on this, and I really like it! Please review! I love getting reviews! The very best thing of all is to get is a sandwich. Compliment, constructive criticism, compliment. But I would be totally fine with just a "cool story!" or, "Nice job!" Literally! That will make me happy. :) Even better would be: "I liked this because…" or "this didn't make sense because…" "or this could be better if…" I have about 10,000 views for all my stories overall, and about 25 reviews. :( This makes me sad. Seriously. I put a lot more work than you would think into this. Please review! Thank you!

**Chapter 16**

Obi-wan's perspective-

Wake up. Remember life. Remember pain. Remember to stay strong. Don't cry. Don't feel. The ritual Obi-wan had completed every day since Anakin's death. Now he also remembered the young slave in Anakin's room. There also seemed to be a notice on his comlink. The breakfast hall was closed for repairs. Some reckless padawan and a droid. Obi-wan forced away the stab at his heart as he thought of Anakin. Ridiculous to be so lonely in the temple of all places. Besides, a Jedi needed only the Force.

Reciting this to himself, he began dressing, and mentally ran a scan over everything he could prepare for breakfast. Deciding on Corase de lar, he walked from his room. Aaaaand there was his little slave. Well not little. But something in the way A - 86205 held himself made himself seem much smaller. Obi-wan brushed the useless thought away, it served no practical purpose.

"There was an accident in the breakfast hall, we'll be eating here." Not home. Home hadn't been here since Anakin. Obi-wan forced his mind off of this path. Really, his Jedi discipline was much harder to find now. So aggravating. Obi-wan walked over to the kitchen, and began pulling out cooking utensils. 86205 came up behind him.

"I can assist you if you wish, master." Of course he could. Obviously.

"Thank you, 86205, but that shall not be necessary. I'm sure you would do it far better than me, but I do need to stay in practice." Obi-wan cocked an eyebrow. "After all, what happens if I'm stranded by myself on some planet somewhere, and I've grown totally reliant on you? I might die of starvation."

"Indeed, master." Was that an almost joke? Obi-wan was sure 86205 was inwardly chastening himself for that comment, but he decided not to comment. He finished the food himself, then set it on the table. The two of them began eating, and Obi-wan noted the lack of protest. 86205 must be programmed to adapt. Wait, programmed? But that was so much like it seemed. A droid. Obi-wan shoved the thoughts from his mind. His comlink beeped, and the Knight noted it was from Rex. He excused himself, and took the call in his room."

"General, we were reviewing the security tapes, and General Skywalker did something in the computer lab I think you should know about."

anyone's perspective-

Obi-wan nearly choked. How could he not have known. How. When the call ended, he grabbed his dresser to steady himself. How. All this time, and 86205, Anakin, must have thought… he was going to have one interesting conversation pretty soon, and fix at least some of what should never have been broken.

* * *

86205 was eating his breakfast, waiting for his master to come back from his call, when said man came bursting out of his room, with an indescribable emotion in his eyes. 86205 barely had time to berate himself for looking at said eyes, when the man grabbed him by the shoulders, and seemed to be on the line of shaking him, and sobbing. Needless to say, 86205 was quite confused.

"Anakin, how, how could you, why, why would you think that?!"

OK, that hadn't really clarified anything. "Master? Are…"

"I'm sorry, I just, I didn't tell you for a reason."

"Tell me what, master?' Inwardly, 86205 was congratulating himself on his calm.

"Not telling you who you were." Oh, that. "I knew what you would think. I knew what you would think of me. I knew… that you would think that I only cared for you because of who you were, and that's not true. I love you for who you are. It's true that I wouldn't care so much if I hadn't known you before, if I hadn't I wouldn't have known what a wonderful person you are! Anakin, I'll always love you. No matter what. I know you don't understand that, but, I… do." Obi-wan fell silent, the boy who had been his padawan observing him, thoughts in turmoil. How could that be true? How could this man, this caring wonderful man feel anything for him? He was nothing. And then the true meaning of the past month sunk in. That wasn't how Obi-wan saw him. And who was he going to believe, the Separatists who had captured and enslaved him, or Obi-wan? Obi-wan, who had cared for him, when no one else ever had. It was a simple choice. He was Anakin Skywalker. And no matter what he wasn't about to let some Seppies steal him. They could take his memories, they could enslave him, beat and humiliate him, but they couldn't have him. He was Anakin Skywalker, he was free.


End file.
